


You and Me. And Our Silver And Brass. Or Whatever.

by orphan_account



Category: Days of Our Lives
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Sexual Content, anger issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25338511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “I’m no queer.” Tad says again, has to say again, but there’s no fire behind it this time. It’s desperate and he’s on the verge of tears as Chad shakes his head. “Neither am I.”
Relationships: Chad Dimera/Tad Stevens, Tad Stevens & Will Horton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was re-watching Sonny and Will's old storylines and there are so many ideas that pop into my head on how things could go. Not just with our main characters, but also the side ones, like T. I really wanted to delve into him as a person and as a character. Give him a little more, you know?   
> Alternate title; 'Chad Fucking Dimera.' ;P

The truth is Tad doesn’t have many friends. Will was it for him. Will was the center and the light in which all their other friends were attached and attracted to, even himself, and not in a _gay_ way. They were all drawn to him in high school, he had that affect that even a Dimera got close to his flame, the youngest called Chad, and then there were the girls. Mackenzie, Gabi, and Melanie to name a few. They liked Will and they tolerated himself. Looking back now, Tad wonders if it was because they knew what he was. That he somehow knew. It leaves him feeling disgusted, sick to the bone, but he also feels incredibly sad and then angry.

Anger is better than everything else. He’s not allowed to feel anything at home. His father makes sure of that. He lost Will that day. Sonny coming by all casual with arms swinging and that _faggot_ smile on his lips. His eyes were always drawn to Will too, Tad realizes then. Always. As were everyone else’s. No one was looking at him. No one looks at him. No girl has ever passed him by and stopped. But they stop by Will. It’s not fair.

He hates Will. He’s not his friends anymore, it feels like he never really knew him, and he knows he was a bit of an asshole but to tell everyone else and then the papers before himself? That hurts. Stings in a way that the punch Sonny dealt can’t even compare. He wants nothing to do with Will anymore, but it’s a small town and he inevitably gets lost in the drama of theirs. In Will and his boa. Makes him feel sick thinking about it, but then Sonny is being nice and apologetic and Tad isn’t angry at Sonny, not really, he’s angry at Will. Angry that he didn’t tell him. Angry that he didn’t mean enough even for that.

“Jordan Yoste.” Will says and he’s laughing, he’s out of breath and he _needs_ something from him. It feels so weird to have the roles reversed like this. Usually it’s Tad asking Will to help him with a girl or to flirt with one to get better seats at a game. It’s always Tad leaning on Will, his best friend, his brother. The only one he’s ever been able to count on. _His Will._

“Come on, man that was sixth grade.” He says it without thinking. It was only sixth grade but it meant the world to him then, and Tad is nothing if not loyal so he still feels that debt weigh him down. Feels how much he wants to give in because this is Will. Will who he stayed up late with him over snuck out beer and rum. Will who he talked to about his shitty father and Will who talked to him about his shitty mom. Will who understood before anyone else. Will who’s done more than anyone ever could for him.

“Two more words for you, Natalie White.”

“Alright, she was fine, even you have to admit.” Tad replies with, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips as the banter between them grows. As the memories of them in younger days, only having each other to lean on. Copying off each other’s homework, legs pressed against legs as they leaned over the table to do so. Tad trying to get the attention of the prettiest girl in class because she was beautiful and he has never had any shame. A man always goes after the pretty girl, and Tad found them all beautiful. Will laughing along with him but going along with his antics to try and gain her attention. A bottle of the hard stuff passed between them under the stars. Farting in bed and laughing and getting annoyed at the other. Movies that Tad went along with even though he hated them because Will loved them. Grass stains and laughs, scrapes on knees as they try to climb the biggest trees. Light in his eyes.

“T, you pined after her for hours. I almost failed seventh grade algebra because you made me sit in the back and watch Natalie and see if she was checking out the chalkboard or… Checking out you.” Will keeps going and Tad is already smiling, his chest warm, not that he’d ever admit it as he thinks back to those days. How happy they were. Happiest days of their lives, he thinks, or it was, for him. Will too the way he’s smiling, but he has something else now. Someone else now.

“Hey, I didn’t come up with the seating chart. If I was in direct line with her I would not have asked you to do that.” Tad tells him seriously. He probably wouldn’t have, but he would have wanted to. The backseat was the best place. They could joke and laugh and see quickly if the teacher was on to them, and they did do that, a lot. He was looking at Natalie, but he was also looking at Will.

Will starts talking about photos they took because Tad wanted them to look good. He’s always been self-conscious about how he looks, he’d never voice it like that but no one’s ever looked at him the way they look at Will. And Will now looks at him so eager, like a puppy, and he gets it. Always has, and his heart tugs and he tells him. He tells him all that Sonny said and Will thanks him. Thanks him so sincerely that Tad can’t help but feel anything but a warm trickle of fondness fill throughout him.

He doesn’t know how to voice his own worries. How to apologize, he’s never had to, or how to tell him anything without sounding like a _gay_ himself or like a girl. He doesn’t know how to express any of it, so he reaches out and makes him look down like they were still kids. He flicks his nose and smiles warmly at him before disappearing. His cheeks are red and he breathes heavier than he should, his strides slowing down only when he turns the corner and he knows that Will can’t possibly see him anymore. 

His hand fits onto his chest where his heart beats too fast and that familiar anger courses out, pumping into his veins but he’s surprised when it comes out flat. It gives way to an indescribable sadness. He doesn’t know when he’ll see Will again. Can’t even pick up the phone. His smile and his light, maybe it’s too bright for him. Maybe it will end up burning him in the end, after all, it already is starting to.

He keeps walking onward regardless, head down as he always has, only this time Will isn’t here to bring it back up.

…

Tad does what he always does in times like these. He goes to a party. There’s a Frat one for one of the rushers and he goes. He goes alone and that’s sad in itself but he doesn’t give a shit. He’ll find a girl, any girl will do and he’ll fuck her, both of them in ecstasy and tasting of beer. He’ll hold onto her in the morning, girls like that, and they love it when you leave your number. He’ll do that too. He always used to laugh with the guys from the track team and baseball team who said they left the girl high and dry the next morning but secretly inside he was saying, ‘you absolute idiotic fucks, you got a girl, be fucking grateful.’ He’ll leave his number. He’ll find someone.

He walks in and there are people everywhere, music louder than his heartbeat and red cups held in hands as others hold cans. He takes his own red cup and finds the keg, filling it up quickly, drinking it all down in one go and then having another. A passing guy nods to him and holds out a bottle of something harder. “Don’t waste all the beer, man, Chad forgot to bring the extra keg. Have a shot if you’re willing to get dizzy.” He sounds wasted himself but Tad doesn’t care. He takes the extended smaller red cup, always secretly thought they were adorable, Will used to say that and he’d scoff at him but the beer’s doing wonders so his thoughts falter. They wander, and linger, and the shot goes straight into his veins like a needle’s shot instead of an alcohol one. But they’re all the same aren’t they?

The music is loud and he has more, another and another. Beer after beer. “Thanks, man,” coming out of his lips every time he’s offered more. He takes and takes, and dances and dances. Finding girls- women to dance with, too drunk to see that he’s not some perfect… _Will_. He thinks of him and his heart seizes and his eyes falter. He loses his dopey grin and he feels sick. He makes it to the bathroom just in time. Vomiting relentlessly and then pulling away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stumbles to the sink. He washes up, finding mouthwash nearby and rinsing until it’s all gone. No trace of sick, but he’s still drunk. Fucked up.

“MOVE!” He hears a voice yell as feet and arms, and limbs wobbling everywhere walk in attached to the tall and intimidating at times, but also funny as hell Chad Dimera. Tad has been friendly with him, was more so when Will was around. In fact they were just starting to get to know each other at the end of their senior year and into their summer. Tad thought he was cool, he attracted different types of girls and repelled the more sunny ones, but then reeled them in again. Reeled him in.

“What the hell man?” He can’t help but say as Chad shuts the door and walks in like he owns the place. He unzips and holy fuck he’s huge, but Tad is turning away, face burning and embarrassment settling in his veins along with the alcohol. He feels like he can’t breathe. He feels like he can’t get out. He feels like he’s going to be sick again. And he feels achingly hard and turned on.

He pisses in the toilet and wobbles up to the sink, washing his hands as his eyes look up to meet Tad’s. “You got something say too? Can’t take care of shit can I? Can’t even take care of Mel.” He says it more sadly at the end, more at a loss and more heartbreaking than Tad cares to know or want to feel. He swallows all the same as the atmosphere between them becomes tense and unreadable. He reaches over Tad and takes the towel, drying his hands with a shaking chest, a heaving sob just at the tip of his tongue that Tad is all too familiar with.

“Fuck… Mel.” He says mournfully as though he has already lost her. He’s looking down at his towel and hands, and Tad feels for him, never been able to leave someone hurt. Despite his assholishness and inability to feel or express anything real. He knows this pain. He knows pain, fuck, has the scars on his back to prove it. Scars deeper too.

“Hey, man-” He reaches out to touch him, to say more, but Chad reacts like he’s been burned, he throws Tad off of him and stares it him like a trapped bird, wounded and trapped, and tortured. Tad stares back much the same only he’s out of the cage, mostly, and he’s trying to help another. He holds out his hands as though he is trying to convey he’s not a threat, to show Chad that they’re good. He’s not going to hurt him. “It’s okay, man, it’s all good.” He tries.

Chad stares longer, the both of them tangled in this web of tense anguish, understanding, and beer, lots of beer and other spirits. Tad’s still a little hard, okay a lot hard, but he always is, and Chad has lost someone. How? Tad doesn’t know. Doesn’t really give a shit to be honest, or so he tells himself even though it’s a lie. It’s always a lie.

The silence prolongs and Tad hates that fucking silence so he says again, hands still outstretched to indicate that it’s alright, it’s cool. They’re good. He says, “It’s okay, man, it’s all good here. I don’t know what the hell happened, but it’s- you’ll be good.”

It’s not the most eloquent but Tad’s never been any of that, anything but more like, and something flickers though in Chad’s eyes so it might not be a complete failure. There’s something there and Chad nods, swallowing it all down before he leans over and what Tad can only equate to the alcohol, kisses him roughly. Kisses him like a man would. Hands firm and hard, and pulling and tugging, and _painful_ in how good it is. He pushes Tad into the bathroom wall and Tad loses himself in it. Doesn’t know where it came from as he clutches at the lapels of Chad’s shirt and brings him even closer.

He feels the hardness through his own clothed jeans and it’s only then that it hits him what the hell they’re doing. He feels Chad as hard as him and he’s a fucking _man._ But it feels so good that he holds him closer and ruts up against him just as Chad ruts down onto him. He’s taller but that don’t means shit, Tad tells himself. He ain’t no queer, and this isn’t no gay shit. This is him getting off, so what if he uses Chad to do it?

He isn’t even thinking not really, he rides and rides, until he’s coming apart, gasp of breath and come leaking out as they both rut against the other until they come up and down, and done. Chad pulls away, lips red and eyes far more wary, and sober. He holds out his hands, finger pointing as he says almost breathlessly, “This never happened. This was a mistake.”

It all catches up to Tad then, a man, in a bathroom, coming on him as though- well he is a horny teenager, but he’s an adult, all but nineteen and this didn’t happen. He’s not- He’s not-

“I’m not a faggot!” He half yells, half explains.

Chad stares at him a moment longer, before half smiling almost amused. He looks as though he wants to say something else, something joking but harsh and Tad knows that would be it. He’d punch him, wail on him for all he’s worth and he doesn’t know if he’d be able to stop. Doesn’t know if he could. But then Chad looks down at him, lower and then to himself. He looks at himself and there’s devastation in his features, a sick realization and understanding of what they did. He shakes his head. “This never happened.” And he leaves. Pushes past Tad and he’s gone out the bathroom door.

Tad lets out the longest breath, a breath he didn’t know he was holding and shuts the door. He locks it and he looks into the mirror, looking up at himself as he cups running water into his hands, and splashes it on himself. He looks up and he’s flushed, and ugly, and straight. He’s straight. He’s normal. He nods to himself.

“It was a mistake, an accident.” He says. “I was drunk. It was an accident.”

He tries to smile, but it doesn’t work. He hates it. He reaches out and he smashes the mirror, pieces flying, Skin piercing. Blood pouring.

“Fuck. FUCK!”

He slams his fists on the porcelain sink and tries to smile, tries to forget.

It doesn’t work.

…

Tad’s always been good at speaking at the wrong time and saying the wrong thing even more. He speaks without thinking, the words tumbling out of his lips before he can stop himself. The anger making it bright and undaring, even his father couldn’t stop them. Stop him. So when he quite literally bumps into Chad and Melanie his first reaction is to smile and say, “Hey, so you guys are back together?”

He’s happy for them, he really is, and he always thought they were good together. Always thought that they were all friends, once, but Melanie looks at him like he’s the gum on the bottom of her shoe. Chad looks at him much the same, only a little more wary and uncertain. Unsteady feet and all that. It makes Tad’s heart clench, clutched in murderous hands as he remembers that _he’s_ the outcast now. He’s the one that doesn’t matter, and Will in all his sunny and bright optimism isn’t even here to shield him. To take the attention away from himself and onto his light. Onto his gold.

“Not that it’s your business, but yes.” Melanie says it coldly, hands on her hips and eyes ready for a fight. Tad sort of chuckles, hands half curled into fists, no violence behind them only the reaction of unbridled anger at being belittled, again and again. He expects it from his dad but not from his friends, but they aren’t his friends anymore, are they? Not after Will was done with them. Done with him.

Chad steps in though, hand outstretched to Tad, lightly brushing against his chest as he half hides Melanie behind him. It could be fire on his skin for how hot it burns but it works as Tad falters back, the anger receding for now. Until Chad says, “We were just leaving.” Melanie looks at him like maybe he’s lost his mind a little. Chad’s never backed down from a fight, with words or otherwise. He never passes up an opportunity to defend his friends. She’s… Concerned. Tad feels nothing but the hesitance of his heart and throbbing of his dick as he stares at the expanse of his neck. Where a mark surely was. A mark he left.

“Yeah, whatever.” Tad settles on, just wanting to get the hell out of here, his anger blinding him as the disgust and sadness weigh him down. He turns to leave and he does, walks a good ways until a rough hand is on his arm, gripping him until he’s pushed somewhere between a bush and a wall. An alleyway that’s darker and away from the world. He looks around but they’re alone and Chad is breathing on him. Eyes angry and scared. He feels much the same.

“Get off me!” He pushes him away, or tries to, he only gets Chad off him a good few inches but his hands are still on his arm and shoulder. His jaw is clenched in anger and outrage, and fear. Terrifying fear that Tad is so achingly familiar with that it douses the flames within himself. He feels the hot breath on his face as Chad says to him desperately, “You can’t tell her.”

Tad feels that pain, that gut twisting pain all over again. Just like when Will left him behind. Whispered words, laughs, and smiles shared with Sonny over picnic baskets and sequence. A website between all of them, together and united, and happy. And where was he? Out in the cold. Out in the dark. No one gives a shit about him. No one ever has until Will, but he’s gone, and Chad is no different. He tries to push him off again, with more strength and more pain masked by anger. He manages as he yells, “I said get off me!”

He points an angry finger at Chad, arm still bandaged and peeking out of his long sleeve as he does so. He gets in his face as Chad’s eyes widen in surprise, shock, and then something more gentle and concerned as he finds the bandage wrapped tightly around Tad’s arm and hand. It doesn’t stop Tad, makes him falter, sure, but he doesn’t stop. He makes Chad look at him and then he says, “I’m no fucking queer, got it!?”

Chad nods, something harder in those eyes of his as he swallows down… Something. “Got it.” He tells Tad.

Tad didn’t expect him to give in so easily, he’s left a little floored, his hands dropping to his side as he steps back. “Good.” He says, but he doesn’t sound so sure, and Chad seems to notice. He doesn’t disappear he stays and he swallows something down as he looks Tad up and down, and Tad can’t help but flicker his eyes to Chad too.

Very gentle, slow, like Tad is the caged animal now, he touches along Tad’s wrist. His fingertips gliding along where the stiches are underneath, almost like he can sense where they are. Sense them, or see underneath. Tad tries to back away, a soft broken, “Don’t,” under his breath, but Chad continues until Tad is bumping into the wall. Stuck. Trapped. But Chad’s breath is hot on his and it’s all going to his dick, only this time he isn’t with alcohol in his system. He’s sober and Chad’s lips are right next to his all the same. His other hand rising up and tugging at the tendrils of his hair, gentle but firm, and real, and there. And no one has ever touched him like this. “What happened?” He asks, whispers it gentle, but Tad doesn’t answer. He won’t. Chad’s hand spanning across his jaw and cheek, palm against until Chad is bringing him in. Lips in something softer but not any less desperate.

Tad stills for a moment but Chad squeezes his injured wrist, accident or not it’s not hurting but it does throb and the pain is as good as the pleasure. Mixed together, it feels achingly _good_. He feels warm and encased and safe, and good. And fuck. Chad reaches between them and squeezes his dick. Rubbing his hand along next as he unzips him. Lips still locked onto his own, he pulls him out into the cool air. Into the outside, because that’s where they are and it’s all kinds of risky, Tad vaguely recalls, but it feels so good and he’s lost in it. Lost in the pleasure, the pain, and the gentleness of Chad’s hand on his face.

He grips and Tad gasps and moans and tries to hold it back. Chad bites along his jaw and hitches his own breath, wanting to say something but then he stops. He pulls away like he’s been burned and Tad is left cold, breathless, and all alone. Chad looks horrified. Hands held out, he says all over again, “This never happened.”

He half runs away and Tad is left cold and bare, and alone for too many horrifyingly embarrassing moments before he remembers himself. Tugging himself back in and fixing his clothing he tries to walk away, tries to hide his still large erection as that same anger and frustration builds. He needs a girlfriend. He needs a girl. Any girl will do.

_He’s not a fucking fairy, and this never fucking happened._

He’s just desperate, horny, and Chad too. His girl probably keeps him on a short leash, that’s all. That’s all, Tad reasons. He smiles. He smiles as he enters civilization again. Normalcy. Guys with girls. Girls with guys. Normal. He’s normal. He’s good.

He smiles.

But he’s also shaking.

…

He decides he has to leave town. It’s the only way, and maybe if he’s somewhere else, away from Will and everyone who trails him, and away from ( _him_ ), he’ll be okay. If he can’t find a girlfriend here he can start over somewhere else and find one there. Anywhere. Any girl will do, but then he’s bumping into Audrey and she’s gorgeous. She’s beautiful. She’s tall ( _like him_ ), and she smiles wide ( _like him_ ), and she’s a girl. ( _Not like him_ ).

“I’m sorry, it’s just you’re so beautiful I forgot how to walk.” He says it out naturally, cheesy as it is but that’s always been his way. All he knows, and she doesn’t scoff or walk away, she smiles and blushes. She ducks her head and his heart soars because he’s found someone. He’s found a _her_. Bright and full of sun, like Will, but better. Everything he’s ever wanted and she gives him her phone number. He feels normal. He feels like he fits in and belongs, and when he goes home and tells his dad he’s met a girl, he gets him a beer. It’s tense and awkward, but his dad smiles the whole time. He doesn’t hurt him or belittle him. Doesn’t wish for another son. He’s happy. Tad feels happy, proud, but it’s drenched in a rain that he’s desperately convinced himself is invisible and doesn’t exist at all.

He sips the beer uneasily, but smiles anyway. Smiles because he can. Because he has to.

Will texts him a few days later and it feels like fate. If Audrey wasn’t under his arm he would have said no. He would have closed his phone and maybe thrown it. Thrown something but he doesn’t. He smiles and he gets his shoes on, and goes to the coffee shop. The shop he knows Will will be at and he feels good. Apologetic and sorry, because he’s living his good normal life, and Will can live whatever life he wants. As long as he’s not bothering him with it anymore, it’s fine by him.

He tries to tell him as much in his own way, but Sonny is there, buzzing around like some bee and it irritates him. Gets on his nerves. He’s trying too hard, Tad thinks, but Will looks at him like he’s the world. Will’s happy, and he’s happy so he drops it and he just lets it go. He ignores the bitterness of them being so open and happy, something he has never been able to do and will never- but now can, he interrupts his own thoughts. Now he can because of Audrey.

“Now, don’t get this guy mad, he has a mean left hook.” Tad says, arm slung around Sonny like he’s any other guy, any normal guy. He wishes he could say, ‘sorry’ but he doesn’t know how. Only knows this, and then he’s gone, off with his phone out and trying to find a way to text Audrey without sounding like an idiot, but he finds that his thumb hovers below, right along where **Chad Dimera** ’s name sits. He feels a frown on his features, and sinking of his heart, but he pushes it all away as he dials Audrey’s number.

“Hey Audrey, it’s T.” He says and he can hear her smile, a real full smile that he doesn’t quite know the meaning of, hasn’t for a long time. It’s the same as Will’s. Same as Sonny’s. ( _But not quite_ ). But he’s not the same as them, never has been. Never. It was a mistake with Chad, an accident from too much beer and not being with anyone before. That’s _it_.

…

They go out and date, and hold hands and kiss. It’s nothing like how Chad kissed him, soft gentle, hard, and desperate, and so full of everything that Tad felt like he was drowning in it. In him. In the fire. In the feeling it invoked. All encompassing. But it is normal. Her and him, and their relationship over ice cream sundaes, walks in the park, and movies on Fridays. She tells him about her brother and how when he came out it was horrible. How she felt, how it strung at his heart strings. Made him bring her close and tell her about Will.

She is honest. Unapologetic in her support of her brother but she explains how it flipped her whole world upside. How it took some time to understand, how ashamed she was and Tad felt, really felt like someone got it. He explains to her how he had needed time to fully process it. Tells her he gets it and she gets him. It’s nothing like the fiery touches he shared with Chad, it’s normal and boring and good. How it’s supposed to be with **her**.

She wants to meet Will and Sonny, and so they go to the coffee house where Sonny is working. Because wherever Sonny is so is Will, big grin and energetic. Full of life and the whole fucking sun. Tad doesn’t care if it’s gay to say, he’ll say it anyway, he’s so happy. Happy to see Will no longer crying over rum on rooftops. No longer gasping for breath from nightmares of holding a gun and taking the shot. No longer weighed down by being shuffled from parent to parent, house to house. No sense of himself, who he is, or where he belongs. Tad still feels all that, but knowing and seeing that Will doesn’t, that he got out… It gives happiness for himself to see it. Makes him hopeful that he will too, and also pained in a way that he doesn’t quite understand but knows, fully.

Things between them will never be the same, but at least Will is happy, and that’s all he could ever really ask for. But then Sonny says they’re not together and Tad feels horrible. Terrible. Torn up. He tries to talk to Sonny but Sonny looks at him like he looks at himself. Ugly. Full of hate and rage, and not worth the time of day. Sonny throws the bone of Audrey and Tad runs with it. He goes miles with it.

Audrey says they should talk to Will but Tad is already walking over there. They talk, briefly, because they’re going to a party afterward, but then Audrey says it was her idea to come here. Tad feels tense all over, a sudden urge and rush to explain that he wanted to come anyway. That he wasn’t forced here. He chose to be here, but she beats him to it and then Will is talking. He starts with, “I’m sorry to hear that, but um…” Tad looks down, sorry for himself and guilty, it twists in him like a knife. Audrey talking about her brother’s friends? She could be talking about him, but then Will is finishing with, “…I’m glad that you found T because, he’s a great guy.”

Tad feels his smile big and wide as he looks up to Will’s own smile. Eye shining and there’s no lie there. No hint of deception. He believes it and Tad doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve this light of Will’s, this tint of gold, from him, but he gets it and he holds onto it. Desperately. He feels alive. He feels, _loved_.

“See you later, bro.” Tad says it deeply. He wants to say more, wants to say so much, but he can’t. Audrey says, “Good luck,” and, “I hope everything works out for you.” And then they’re leaving. Tad feels lighter. Knows that Will and Sonny will work things out, knows that Will still loves him. That his light hasn’t faded from himself. Knows it’s okay.

They go to the party and that all changes. Chad fucking Dimera. He’s drunk, hanging around people and almost falling over. His eyes light up when he sees Tad, soft recognition and joy as he lumbers forward, unsteady and plastered. He hangs around Tad, long fucking arm around him and hot breath on Tad’s neck that makes him want to scream, push him away harshly, and pull him closer into himself all at once. He’s not gay, but he wants to kiss him, fuck him. Do something. To him. With him. Them.

“Heyyyyy T… All your fault…” Chad says. “Fuckin’ patryyyy sucks!”

“Do you know him?” Audrey asks with concern. Eyes looking from Chad to Tad’s.

“Yeah.” Tad says reluctantly as he tries to pry Chad off of him, or at the very least get him standing up properly as his beer in his red cup threatens to spill over. Onto him no doubt, because that’s Tad’s life. One good thing and then it’s gone. Always the way, it seems.

“He looks bad, Tad you better take him home.” She says gently, worry lacing her words for someone she doesn’t even know. She’s so good and kind, and she never gets angry. She’s not damaged or hurt like he is. She’s normal. Free. Gold to his silver that’s quickly turning to brass. He feels tears of all things, but they’re gone. He’s an expert at that as well it seems. He nods, unable to say no to her and she smiles at him, gentle and kind as always.

“I see Lucy here, you take him home, I’ll get a ride from her, okay?”

He brings Chad up and half carries him out of the house, not caring if he bumps him into something, but he doesn’t want him complaining to him later so he’s careful. That’s what he tells himself to justify how considerate he is not to bump into walls or car doors as he reaches over to buckle him up. Getting into the driver’s seat he starts the car and reaches for the water bottle between them. He hands it to Chad who’s pressed against the window staring out into nothing, blank in his drunken state.

“Drink it.” Tad says, throwing the bottle onto his lap. Chad picks it up, looks at it half uncaring, but shrugs as if he has nothing better to do and drinks it. He drinks it all, and Tad heads towards the Dimera mansion, but Chad is quick to yell, “No! Take me to mine.”

“You have your own apartment?” Tad asks confused and a little jealous. Of course he does. He’s a fucking Dimera, has everything handed to him. He goes to the address Chad lists out, surprisingly less drunk than he seemed before, and soon they’re there. He gets him out somehow but then Chad is walking on his own. Tad stares at him, half unsure if he has to walk up to his place with him or if he just drive away and forget this nightmare, but Chad makes the decision for him when he reaches the door and fails to put his keys in multiple times.

“I’ve got it.” Tad huffs out as he takes his keys from his hands, warmth on warmth, and Chad’s eyes burning into him. He tries not to think about it as he opens the door and helps Chad in. He walks fine all the way to the bed in the middle of the room. A small studio then it seems, still nicer than Tad’s ever had, and it’s his own. No one else’s. No one here to fuck him up when he ‘gets out of line’.

The door shuts behind them and Chad lays his back on his bed staring up at the ceiling before moving to Tad. “Why are you helping me? ‘Cause of your girl? Guess so, lucky you got yours still.” He says it with a sad emptiness that has Tad feeling that familiar ache in his bones, in his head, and in his heart. The loss of his best friend, of Will, and all they were together is still there because no matter how many nice words they say to each other, it will never be the same. Never. And Will sees it. Tad is the one who has to know it though, has to live with it. He gets it. He puts the keys off to the side shelve and sits down at the end of Chad’s bed. He looks up to him and tells him seriously, “You’ll find someone new. I did.”

He doesn’t mean for the, ‘I did’, to come out but it does and Chad is looking at him curiously before he sits up. He moves closer to Tad and Tad is seconds from punching him, running away, or kissing him until they both can’t breathe. Not because he’s gay, no, but because Chad makes him feel like he’s burning from a fire and being saved from it all at the same time. He makes him feel something more than anger and hatred, and fear.

He makes him _feel_.

Chad’s legs come around him as he gets closer, hand on his cheek much like last time as his hand wraps around Tad’s wrist. The one that was injured but now healed. There’s small scars, barely visible unless you’re looking for them. He lifts his wrist up and Tad chokes out, breathless, scared, and wanting, “Wh- What are you doing?”

Chad pulls back his sleeve and his lips descend onto the delicate scar tissue. He kisses him and his stubble scratches along. It leaves his nerve endings on fire and his heart beating so loud he’s afraid he’ll hear it. No one touches him like this. It’s hypnotizing, intoxicating, and Chad is looking up into his eyes. His lips move to form the word, or letter in this case, “T…”

“I’m no queer.” Tad says again, has to say again, but there’s no fire behind it this time. It’s desperate and he’s on the verge of tears as Chad shakes it head. “Neither am I.” He tells Tad.

Tad’s shaking. Hesitance and fear, and disgust at himself. No one else. Just himself. Chad reaches out. Tad’s the wounded bird now, fingers along his jaw as Chad says more gentle than he deserves, “Doesn’t have to mean anything.” And, “no one has to know.”

It’s what seals the deal for Tad, makes him lose himself in the kiss that comes. Lips meeting as teeth clash and it’s desperate, soul clawing as their fingers rip into the other just as much as their lips and heart do. Chad is wrapped around his waist, dicks rubbing against the other as their shirts are pulled off in a hurry. Tad finds himself on his back and Chad is removing his jeans, pulling them down and taking him in with a gasp of air leaving Tad’s own lips. He looks down and then has to look away as his breath hitches for another reason now.

His fingers tighten in Chad’s hair as he comes close to coming undone, both physical, mentally, and emotionally. But a hand is on his and Chad is leaning back up, eyes concerned as he takes Tad’s lips into his, gentle but with no less of that fire, of that passion. They dive for one another, and Tad lets the tears come as Chad reaches for something, fingers coated and opening him up. He asks for permission between their swollen lips, but all Tad can manage to do is nod. He can’t think, because if he thinks it will all hit him and he’ll leave. He’ll punch. He’ll hurt. He won’t get. He won’t have this, and he wants it, god he wants it more than he’s wanted anything else. More than Will.

Chad cups his cheeks with his hands, wiping away the tears as they fall, as he pushes deeper into him. Lips on his, on his cheeks, on his neck, back up to his lips. Touches warm and hot, and sweat as well as pleasure building between them. It’s messy and so good, and so horrible in his own gut for the feelings and memories that Tad bites down on Chad’s neck, hiding in the crook of it as he comes. As he rides down from his pleasure, Chad soon following.

He swears he almost disappears for a moment, floating up into nothing. Not the sky, or any heavenly source, just nothing. The thing that brings him down isn’t a thing but a who. It’s Chad, lips on his, on his cheeks, swollen eyes from crying, and swollen lips from kissing. Apologetic, soft and tender brushes along his skin. “It’s okay.” He whispers. “I’ve got you, Tad.”

But it’s the loss of pleasure that leaves his head both floaty and clear. He pushes Chad away, aching with soreness as he does so and reaches for his scattered clothing. He puts it on in a hurry, Chad sitting almost in shock with his hands out, like he’s unsure if he should do anything. Wants to, that’s clear in his eyes, but unsure.

“T-” Chad eventually tries, but Tad is already slamming the door behind himself, only his jeans on. His shirt and shoes are in his hands and he’s getting into his truck, his _father’s_ truck, and he’s driving away. Driving as far as he can get before he has to pull over and vomit into the grass on the side of the road, his hands coming down on the steering wheel in angry hits as he yells over and over, “Fuck! Fuck! **FUCK!** ”

He falls into sobs, uncontrolled and unhelped.


	2. Chapter 2

There’s a distance between himself and Audrey, it comes on like a tidal wave. He knows it’s his fault but he can’t let her go. He clings to her like a lost child looking for a mother to make everything alright, but no one can. Not even himself. She eventually pulls him to the side and says that things have changed. That they’re not on the same wavelength anymore. That she doesn’t know who he is anymore, and the sad part is neither does he. Or maybe he just knows himself a little bit too well now. Maybe that’s the problem.

“Audrey, please.” He begs. “I’ll do better. I- I’ll go shopping with you for god’s sake. Please, babe.”

She shakes her head, hands in his that slip out and she’s gone. He’s left empty and cold as he watches her go, skirt flowing by and hair dancing in the wind. Replacing her bright light is the darkness of the Dimera name. Of Chad, tall and eyes locked on, angry and judging, and full of a fire that burns so good. He swallows against it and tries to pull away but before he can stop himself he’s knocking on his door.

Chad opens up and stares at him, eyes appraising but not surprised, in fact Tad swears he sees a hint of joy there. But he doesn’t want to think about that. He stands breathing heavy as though he ran a marathon to come here when in fact he drove, fingers tapping on the steering wheel in an anxious manner. His whole self nervous and buzzing. But he’s here, he stares and Chad stares back until he says, “Didn’t think I’d see you here again.” But there’s a hint of a lie, a hint of a hope that he’s been carrying that Tad doesn’t want to think about him carrying. So instead he walks in, door shut behind him and hands in his hair. He grips on and locks his lips onto Chad’s, bringing him in. Bringing him.

They pull away, Chad pulling him away. “Wait, wait,” whispered on his lips until he opens his eyes and stares back at Tad. So close yet so far away. Fingers gripped into his skin, into the fabric of his jacket and into his bones. Scorched and marked in a way Tad never thought possible. He looks up to him and says simply, “It means nothing.”

He thinks that’s what Chad wants to hear anyway, and Chad does nod, accepting this as his grip gets softer but there’s something else there. A flicker of uncertainty and something else. Hope or wanting, or desire of something more maybe, but Tad doesn’t want to think about that. Not now and not ever. He licks his lips and he brings Chad in, and Chad lets go. Let’s loose as a hand travels up to the back of his neck, rough and uncompromising as they tangle together toward the bed.

Tad finds himself on top and then a bit of a wrestle ensues as Chad brings himself on top now. He pulls back a little to look down and Tad feels ripped open. Vulnerable and skinned. He stares back for as long as he can in that impossible silence, his cheeks heating up, and then he can’t take it anymore. He tugs Chad down but when he doesn’t budge he says, “What the hell are you waiting for, Dimera? Mel to show back up?”

He wants to say more, is going to say more, but this seems to be enough because Chad is back on him with an animalistic growl. Teeth clash as lips press together. He kisses and bites down Tad’s neck, to his collarbone before he pulls back and rips his shirt up and off. Chad’s comes next, then the unbuckling as the other layers are shredded. Something is grabbed nearby much like before and Tad tenses up, can’t help it because he’s a little more clear headed now. Impossibly hard but this was a decision. This wasn’t chance. He’s afraid. He’s shaking.

Chad stops and leans back up, his hand across Tad’s hair and down his jaw, half on his neck as he asks, “Are you okay?”

Tad can’t answer, can’t even look at him until Chad tugs his hair so he does. Eyes more intense and worried than Tad’s ever seen from the man, from anyone for _him_ stare back. “I said, are you okay, T? We don’t have to do this.” His thumb rubs soothingly on his cheek. Gentle. Too gentle. And something else he doesn’t want or like from a guy, from anyone.

“It’s just sex.” Tad says, but it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than Chad. Chad nods all the same and agrees easily, “Yeah, of course it is.” He’s swallowing something down too though, and it’s intense and awkward, and warm all at once. But Chad doesn’t move, not until Tad grips his arm and looks to him on his own accord. “Hurry up, Dimera, I’m getting cold.”

It’s more than that, he’s softer. Less hard and Chad notices but he’s a gentlemen all the same. He doesn’t say anything he just nods and leans down, taking Tad into his mouth as his fingers slowly move into him. One at first, then two as Tad comes back to full hardness, fingers gripping into Chad’s hair as he whines, trying to be quiet but unable to stop himself until he’s so full he feels like he could die from it. Chad hits something within, much like last time, only this time more precisely and Tad loses it.

“F- Fuck!” He half yells.

Chad pops off his dick, which is all the same because he was so close. Too close. He wants more though, he doesn’t want to come yet, and Chad gives. He slips a condom on and enters him slowly, kissing Tad’s lips gentle and with something more than a quick fuck would give. Hands on his jaw, eyes locked onto Tad’s. He makes him look at him, he makes his eyes bleed into his own as he rocks forward. He’s split open and tears leak out of the corner of his eyes, so overwhelming and so much slower than before. It’s almost... _loving._

“I’ve got you, T.” He says it like a promise, like a vow. His lips locking onto Tad’s, gentle, soft, and full of a fire that burns and that he’s being saved from all at once. Will he ever get used to this feeling? Does he want to?

He doesn’t know how long Chad fucks into him, how long he has his cock stroked up and down so slowly it’s almost painful with how good it is. Doesn’t know how long Chad kisses his lips, down his jaw and neck, and up again. Doesn’t know how long he stares into those brown eyes, but suddenly he’s coming apart. Arms wrapped around Chad, gripping him tightly and bringing him as close as they can possibly get. Hiding away in the crook of his neck and shoulder as he bites down too harshly and comes apart, finally.

“Come, baby, come on, I’ve got you.” Chad encourages, the nickname burning into him like a brand. He doesn’t feel sick about it until afterwards. Until he’s lying there come soaked and worn out. Post-orgasm haze clearing away for his brain to start working again. For the name to ring around and around in his head. ‘ _Baby. Baby. Baby.’_

“I have to go.” Tad says, doesn’t know why he says it. He’s never been one for common courtesy. He gets up all the same though as Chad does the same, feebly reaching out and trying to grab onto Tad, to make stay but Tad shakes him off.

“You can stay.” Chad still tries but Tad is already wiping himself off on Chad’s blanket, neither commenting on how unnecessary that was when there are towels in the bathroom off to their right. Instead Chad adds, “You don’t have to go.”

But Tad already has his clothes on, his heart ready to burst out, and he’s gone. Door behind him and an emptiness he’s achingly familiar with, growing now to something bigger. Almost swallowing him whole as he gets in the car and drive away. Drives all the way to the edge of town and gets out.

He stares at the, ‘ ** _Leaving Salem, come back soon!_** _’_ sign with anger, and before he knows it he reaches out and kicks the sigh as he screams. Yells and screams so loud that it could break glass, but it doesn’t, and no one is around to hear it. No one ever hears him scream.

He puts his head into his hands and yells once more for good measure, “FUCK!” And then he gets back in his car and he calls Sonny. Calls him because Will doesn’t pick up, and he asks about a game. All of them, anyone, anything that can get him away from his shit. Be in the light of Will again. The uncomplicated happiness and _love_ his friendship brings. Although, he’d never admit it like that. Never could. Never can.

Will says no today, but says yes for tomorrow, and Tad will take it. He’ll take anything.

He gets back in the car and drives back into town.

…

He lies. Doesn’t know how not to. He tells them he’s still seeing Audrey, goes on and on about her because Chad is right fucking there. He seems upset about it, or something. He throws the ball more harder than he has to. He trips up people, himself not included but he’s more aggressive than he needs to be. So Tad keeps going, Audrey this and Audrey that until he’s sick of hearing it himself.

When they get to the diner and Chad leaves, claiming a phone call but Tad knows better, they all do, so he tells Brian about Audrey’s brother. Asks for a ride and when they get in the car he gives him an address to a road off the side and Brian gives him one look before doing just that. There’s no talking really, although Brian is a smartass, there’s just lips on lips and hands in places that have Tad hard in minutes, but it’s not fire. It’s not being burned and saved all at once. His heart doesn’t beat to impossible levels. His cheeks don’t redden. He doesn’t feel loose limbed or loose lipped. He feels dirtier. Wrong.

_Cheating._ But he’s not in a relationship. He pulls away from Brian and says, “No, I- I can’t. Fuck off.” He reaches for the door to get out but Brian grips his arm and breathes into him with a snarl, “Why the hell not!?”

Tad rips his arm away, pushing him into the dashboard with gritted teeth as he says between them, “let me the hell go!” He pushes open the door and stumbles out. Walks along the dirt filled empty back road for a few minutes before Brian is driving off, giving him the middle finger as he goes. Tad wants to scream, to tear his hair out, but he grips it all down and keeps going. He just keeps going.

He’s shaking.

He’s cold.

He misses that fire.

Fucking Chad Dimera.

…

Him and Will get closer, they do more stuff together and Sonny is always there now. It’s a stretch, an adjustment that needs to be made, but he tries. He tries for Will and his smile, his light and his brightness. His best friend. He tries for him, and he finds that it’s more fun than he thought it would be. He smiles and laughs with them, and he almost forgets about Audrey, about that normal life, and his path away from it. With Chad.

He almost forgets. Almost. Until Chad calls him, tells him a gruff, “sorry.” He tells him to come over and Tad, always a weak man, does. He’s never gotten the lessons through his head that his father has tried to teach him. He goes, and Chad pulls him close, kissing him but it’s more like an embrace. He gets his shirt off and Tad’s back is to him. He sees the scars, his breath hitches. He asks gently, too soft, so soft that Tad knows he doesn’t deserve it, “Baby, what happened?”

“Fuck off, Dimera.” Is his instant reply, but there’s more of a cripple of grief, of sadness, and long lost pain than any real fury or ire. He doesn’t even move, he lets Chad see. Lets him in somewhere he hasn’t even ever let Will. Doesn’t know why exactly he does it, but he does it. He feels his hot breath across the span of scar tissue before the hitch in his breath and then the soft touch of lips across. On every one, it makes Tad weak in the knees, almost ready to fall over but Chad has his arms wrapped around his middle. He’s shirtless too, their skin presses dangerously heated together.

It feels like they’re catching on fire. Like all his silver is being burned away to reveal the ugly core of age old metal or tin. Maybe even brass. Nothing spectacular, something ordinary and not worth the time, but Chad holds him like he’s more precious than even diamond. Kisses his skin like it’s sharp enough to cut or kill, but not himself, no- It’s Tad it could kill. Has. Almost. Killed.

He feels those lips on his neck, biting down with more fervour, painful pleasure. Pain. That’s what he knows. He grips Chad’s hair, reaching up from behind and pulls him closer, encouraging him without words to leave his own marks now, only this time he wants these ones. Only this time they’re full of the good, not the evil. Not the evil he’s so accustomed to receiving.

Chad pushes him into the wall, and it’s gentle when it should be harsh. His hands reach out and unbutton his pants, pulling them down as he reaches for the bottle nearby, leaving Tad empty and cold for a moment, but it’s a moment too long. The tears return just as Chad does, warmth back around him as an arm is at his middle. Holding him up and keeping him steady as Chad skillfully opens the bottle with one hand, breath on his neck as he soothes with, “Shh, it’s okay, T, I’ve got you, babe.”

He’s gentle and tender, biting and nipping as he opens him up right there, standing up against his wall, cheek pressed into the cool plaster as hot breath ghosts along his neck and shoulders, and back. Fingers filling him up and hitting him in all the right places, his whine and neediness coming out as his knees almost give way. Chad holds him up though. Holds him through it all as he enters him slowly, then once he’s comfortable, faster. In fast, and dragging out slow. Tad finds himself reaching for the curtain nearby, gripping into the fabric to try and hold onto something as his other hand grips the one wrapped around his middle. Chad takes it, fingers interlocking together at his chest. A kiss on his shoulder, cock hard and deep.

He fucks into him for a long time before Chad finally brings their joined hands down and gripping onto Tad’s cock, pulling and tugging, and stroking until he’s coming undone, coming apart. “Fuck me harder.” He tells Chad. “Come on, fuck! Come on!”

Chad does, hard and fast, and gets off. He’s coming down too, both collapsing against each other, against the wall, breathe heavy and minds and bodies heavy too. Tad just feels spun out. Unable to comprehend his feet in front of him. Chad must have moved him because when he becomes more aware of himself he’s wearing a shirt that’s not his, long and down past his thighs. Warm and safe, full with something, with the hot embers of coal permanently inside himself now. Only lit when Chad is near. And he is, these are his arms around him. His body curled around his own. Breath even and deep at his ear.

He’s never felt more alive. More human.

More happy.

He gives in, and he doesn’t run away. He tells himself it’s because he’s too tired, but no one would or could be fooled by that. In the morning he runs, but for now he stays, and maybe just maybe he smiles as he drifts off into that deep recess of slumber.

…

He has to see Chad, all the time because they share friends. So many friends, but after he spends the night Chad doesn’t take anymore phone calls and Tad doesn’t try to get Brian alone again. Thankfully he seems to have ducked out of Will and Sonny’s lives, a fact Tad is grateful for and disgusted by himself for. He knows why he’s gone, it’s not just because of his interest in Sonny and how Will laid him out for it, which Tad smiles even now thinking of. But it’s also because of him.

He stays most nights, every night, but he leaves in the morning. Can’t bear the thought of Chad in the morning. When their defences are down, his defences are down. Where his voice is croaky and he can’t think straight but for worse reasons, honest reasons. Can’t stand the thought of talking or saying anything, this is just sex, it’s pleasure and anything more scares him so bad his hands start shaking, his skin the echoing of a belt against it. The torn flesh and harsh whisper of, ‘ _faggot’_ burned into his skin as much as the marks are scarred onto that flesh.

Chad tries to kiss the pain away, to give pleasure where it burns, but all it does is ignite something more within himself. Something he never knew or chose not to acknowledge was there. Has always been there. Even his father knew. He feels sick all over again. They fuck and it’s more, but it’s not. Tad spends the night in warm arms, less alone and filled with something, not light or brightness like Will, that always was a pipe dream anyway, but of something that encases every part of him. Dipped into like an extra coating, only able to be acknowledge or know it’s there when Chad is with him. He can’t ignore it then, can every other time, lingers and specks of it when they’re together in front of their friends, but not fully, not until he fully lets it when it’s just them.

It’s all good until they’re breathless, breathing into each other with arms and limbs tangled together, his head on Chad’s shoulder and a nervous tickle as Chad says, almost casually, but it’s anything but, “We’re having our grand opening on Saturday. You should come… With me.” There’s a pause between, ‘you should come’ and ‘with me.’ So much so that Tad forgets to breath, and then it lands on those two words and he’s sitting up, clothes thrown on as Chad sighs, it’s not just disappointed anymore though, it’s anger, and _hurt_. It hurt Tad to hear him hurt because of himself. Because of his actions, but he reasons with himself when he tells himself that Chad doesn’t know real hurt. Not the kind that brands you, not on skin, but inside, deep within.

“What?” He’s talking, nervous and startled, unable to help it. His mouth moving before his mind does. “Go together like a couple of fairies on the town!? No fucking thank you.”

He’s got his pants on, his shirt half way buttoned and Chad grabs his arm. Tad pushes him off, staring up at him, caught and lost all at once. “Don’t.” He tells him, then a little more afraid, a little more dark and soft, “Don’t.”

Chad gulps and let’s go, hands held up much like the first time when this all began, only it was Tad who had his hands up. Chad the caged bird. Now it’s him. But then he thinks that maybe, and this scares him more than anything else, that it’s always been him. Always.

“I’m going to get a date with a girl and I’m going to be norm- No, I am normal.” He says it with so much certainty that Chad shakes his head but doesn’t argue. In fact he looks devastated and angry, and in pain, but not for himself. For Tad.

“You are normal, Tad.” Chad says it so softly, so tenderly it hurts, but Tad keeps going and Chad gets angry. Always so angry. Tad can relate. They have that much in common at least.

“You know what? Whatever. I’ll ask Abigail to go. I’m done, T, I’m fucking done.” He turns away and Tad’s left with his heart in a ball on the floor, curled up, wet and ugly, and dying. He’s never hurt this much. Never known a love that could, hurt, _this_ much. But eventually he turns away and tries not show the trail of tears that persists all the way to his truck- to his _father’s_ truck. He drives away and he vows to find a girl.

To be normal.

It was just sex.

But his heart is still on that floor, curled up and dying, with Chad.

And the trail of tears won’t stop.

…

Tad brings a girl that he almost forgets her name, does in fact a few times, and the party’s great. He drinks too much beer. Drinks more than he should when he’s driving and he talks to his friends normally. When Chad comes sporting Abigail on his arm, Tad lets the beer do all the talking. It’s all good, his date had even found someone to dance with when there’s commotion outside. A scuffle that he’s ready for. Always on the bridge of fighting, but mostly he’s used to the chaos. Has too much of a taste for it. Doesn’t like it exactly, but it’s in his bones. It’s his.

Then he sees Chad, beaten to hell and he sees red. He’s pulling the guy off as fast as he can and he’s helping Chad to his feet, bringing him in and setting him down as well as he can without hurting him more. Chad looks at him confused but then his eyes flicker away as Abigail asks what he needs. “Water.” He croaks out and Chad rushes to get it, right along with Abigail, not even noticing that she is too. All his attention, focus, and concern is on Chad.

He watches as Abigail helps him to have a sip. That should be him. His heart is angry, he’s angry, and when Chad says, “I need to go.” Tad steps up before Abigail can. “I’ll take you.” He says, but everyone looks at him like he’s lost his mind. Chad’s no different, but there’s a flicker of something more. So much more as he says softly, “You’ve been drinking.” It’s not a ‘no’, but it might as well be one, thinks Tad bitterly as Abigail jumps at the chance. Perky and annoying. He’s never had anything against Abigail until now. Now he hates her.

He watches them go and then he has more beer, Will tells him to slow down and he says right back, “The fun’s just beginning.” But he does stop after that one. Drinks a lot of water and finally when he’s sober enough and gained enough sober courage. He leaves. He goes to Chad, making sure and scoping out the place to see that Abigail’s not there. If she is here, she does a good job of hiding.

He walks up and tries to breathe as he knocks. Chad answers, surprise on his features as he holds a bag of frozen peas to his head. “T?” He asks confused. Tad’s never been good at asking or talking, or anything really, so he pushes his way in. Chad shutting the door behind them with confusion as Tad scans the small apartment to make sure no one is here, that they are alone. When he is sure of that he turns to Chad and touches his cheek, hand on him. Palm flat against the rapidly forming bruise. It’s just a brush of a touch, no real pressure behind it but Chad still winces all the same.

He wants to ask if he went to the hospital, but he knows from experience that’s the worst thing to do most of the time. So he asks instead, “First aid kit?” There’s a cut above his eyebrow. Needs to be disinfected and bandaged up. Maybe a stich or two but maybe not. Chad nods dumbly in an answer and Tad bites the inside of his cheek from yelling. He breathes. “Where is it?”

“Bathroom sink.” Tad goes and finds it. He takes it out to the main room and grabs Chad’s wrist, making him sit down, a wince from him as it jostles the bruises on his torso that he no doubt has.

“Take off your shirt.” Tad tells him and Chad smirks. “If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask.” He says.

Tad feels his cheeks almost become warm as he replies back, “I did ask.”

Chad loses his bravado, a look of awe in his eyes and almost like he doesn’t quite believe this is real. That Tad is right here with him, joking about some pretty gay stuff, but Tad doesn’t care about all that right now. All he cares about his cleaning Chad’s wounds and making sure he has no broken ribs. That he’s bandaged up properly and gets some rest. Gets well. His heart won’t let him do anything else. He knows that before he knows how to breathe.

Chad takes off his shirt and Tad gets to work. Nothing is broken, just some bruising. He disinfects above his eyebrow, his palms where he tried to break his fall and bandages them with care. He helps him to change and get under the covers and when Chad looks up, big wide eyed and full of three aspirin asking, “Stay? Please, T?”

Tad’s heart tugs and tugs until he nods. Taking off his own shirt and jeans he slips under the covers too, and he finds himself with his arms around Chad. Palm flat against his chest right over where his heart still beats. It’s the greatest comfort of all. The best sound of a melody Tad’s ever heard. They fall together like that, into sweet slumber. Chad’s last conscious breath being one of relief and of _love_ , Tad’s own following soon after.

His heart is no longer on the floor dying, it’s in him and in Chad, shared, both of their hearts until they don’t know where one beings and one ends.

…

In the morning, Tad stays. He feels the hardness of Chad against him and the hot breath of his on his neck. He reaches out feeling bold but still nervous with the hitch of his breath as he strokes through his boxers just a little. It’s enough, enough for Chad to lazily open his eyes and smirk up at Tad who is both apprehensive and wanting. Chad’s hurt, he doesn’t want to hurt him, but it seems Chad has other ideas.

“You stayed.” He says in that same awe and wonder.

“Yeah.” Tad breathes, his heart beating too fast. “And you’re hard.” He adds because he doesn’t know how to shut up. Chad chuckles all the same though squeezes Tad’s own hardness right back. “So are you.” He says in a husky sleep filled voice that has Tad harder than ever.

“You’re hurt, we can’t…” He doesn’t get to finish Chad is nibbling along his neck.

“If you fuck me, then you do most of the work. We’ll be fine.” Chad explains, but Tad freezes. He’s never done that before. They’ve never done this before, but he’s surprised and surprised by his surprise by how much he wants it.

He breathes heavily, “Yeah?”

Chad leaves an open mouthed kiss below his ear. “Yeah.”

It takes some rearranging and some grunting, and groaning but they make it work. Chad gasps into his ear as Tad finds his sweet spot. He writhes under him until Tad is in him. It’s good, anything with Chad is good, fire and being saved all at once. He feels alive and good, and even Chad’s bone breaking grip on his arms doesn’t do anything to extinguish it. When they’re done they’re on their backs, panting, Tad’s eyes roaming over Chad’s to see if he’s okay.

“I…” Chad says carefully, afraid it seems, eyes looking from right to left but never right at Tad.

“Say it.” Tad insists. He’s scared too, scared that Chad is going to tell him to keep going like this always. That he likes it better this way when Tad doesn’t. It was good. Always is with Chad, but he likes himself- _fuck_ , the disgust rolls throughout him. He feels sick.

“It was good.” Chad says.

“Yeah.” Tad agrees easily, because it was. Always is good a nice, and fire with Chad, but…

“I think I like it better when I’m… In you.” Chad looks to him, eyes burning and begging him to understand, his own fear at Tad rejecting that. Rejecting his preference when it’s his own too it seems _. Disgust. Sick. Fea-_

“Me too.” Tad looks to the ceiling. He purposely does not look at Chad, but then Chad is bringing him close kissing along his neck and jaw, a ticklish sensation that’s anything but sexual. He laughs, can’t help it as Chad brings him ever the more closer until the laughter dies down and Chad says to him, “Stay, please.” He says it like a plea, a prayer and Tad doesn’t know who’s more shocked between them by his answer, by how much he wants that too.

“Yeah, okay.”

Chad’s eyes widen as he sits up over him. “Really?”

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

Chad’s smile gets wide and big, and amazed but he does shut up about it. Instead saying, “I’ll cook us some breakfast.” But it turns out that Chad can’t cook, and neither can Tad. They make cereal instead, curling up on Chad’s bed, backs to his wall as the TV turns onto weekend morning cartoons. The kinds of cartoons that Tad always watched as a kid growing up, did with Will at their sleepovers, and still he watches them today. Chad throws his arm around him and brings him close, bodies flush against the other in comfort, in something more than flesh on flesh in passion. This is also friendship, respect, and mutual- well everything.

They spend the day much the same way until there’s a knock and Abigail is suddenly there. Her presence a shock to them both and Tad is shaking. He stares at the door as Chad looks away from peeking behind his window curtains to see who it is saying, “Abigail. It’s Abigail.” But then his eyes land on Tad, his shaking body, concern as he touches him but Tad flinches away like he’s been burned. Hand stretched outward as he still stares at the door but is now talking to Chad. “D- Don’t touch me.”

“Okay, baby, I won’t.” Chad tries, then with an idea adds, “Go into the bathroom. I’ll get rid of her.”

There’s nowhere else to go and Chad doesn’t even try to reason that they could tell her, he somehow gets that it’s impossible for Tad. Sees it too, but who wouldn’t, honestly? Tad’s ugly and small, and the farthest thing from any kind of light, _or gold_. He goes to the bathroom all the same and curls up as he listens to their conversation with a sick dread that twists him inside and out. Inside and out- completely.

“Ah, hey Abigail, what are you doing here?” Chad.

“Um, checking you, Chad, and you know if you’d answer your phone I wouldn’t have had to drive all the way over here. So, are you okay? What happened after I left? You look… Sore. Are you alright? You didn’t break anything did you!?” Abigail, shrill and worried, and Tad is mad until he’s not. Until he can’t be mad at her anymore. He’s glad she cares. Jealous that she can care without hesitation, so open, and so at ease. Easy. He could never, and would never.

“I’m fine, as you can see, so you can go now, Abs, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Woah, no wait, I- Who’s here Chad?”

Fuck. Crap. Shit. He’s going to be fucking sick.

“No one.”

“You’re bathroom light is on, I can see it and the door is shut. You ever leave it shut because of your mold problem you had.”

How many times has she been here? Tad can’t help but wonder.

She gets closer, Tad’s heart is going to pound out of his chest. He clutches at his hair until it hurts.

“Wait!”

She stops.

“Okay, there is someone here but h- not- we’re not ready for everyone to know yet.” Chad says quickly, and then Tad hears, thankfully as she walks away. Walks back to Chad and the rest is a blur until Tad hears the knock on the bathroom door and the quiet, “She’s gone.”

Still, it takes longer to finally get up and get out. When he does it’s on shaky legs and an even shakier mind and heart. Chad stares at him, unfiltered concern all over his features as he tries to reach out but stops as Tad moves away, arms crossing over himself as he fidgets away. Walks over to the curtain and peeks out but she’s gone, and his truck is still there. Fuck.

He turns back to Chad in a hurry. “My truck- shit she must have saw. Fuck. Fuck.” He grips his hair and shakes like he’s vibrating.

Chad’s hands are out to him. “Woah, woah, calm down, baby, it’s okay. T, it’s okay. She doesn’t even know what you drive, right? She’s never even seen you around, right? Tad!?”

Tad knows he’s right and he knows that he knows he’s right. Tad stops pacing, looking up to Chad and unclenching his fingers from his hair. He nods. “Right.” And Chad takes that as his queue, he walks over, hands cupping his cheeks, one moving to the back of his neck as he makes Tad look up at him much like the first time and the second time, and every time after that.

“It’s you and me.” Chad promises. “She doesn’t know. No one else has to know.”

But Tad can see how much those last words break him, and yet he doesn’t know how or to have the capacity to change that. Neither the bravery or courage, or understanding. All he can do is nod and let Chad bring him close, a deep kiss and then warm arms wrapping around him. Burning- burning- **burning him up**.

“It’s you and me.”

_Okay._

…

It is them, Tad and Chad, fucking comedy duo by the way their names rhyme, but it is them together. They spend nights together and mornings, and whole days when Chad doesn’t have work and Tad doesn’t have classes. They eat cereal for breakfast and order takeout for dinners. Chad learns how to cook a few things for easy dinners. They go to the gym sometimes together and sometimes a part. They don’t do anything to act like a couple, in fact everyone would think they were strangers if not for the lingering glances and touches prolonged by the pass of a water bottle. 

They watch cartoons on the weekend mornings and action movies at night before bed. Big bowls of microwave popcorn shared between them. Kisses on the slow parts, languid and open, and slow. It’s all at a pace set only by them. Tad’s never felt more at ease in himself and with another until Chad fucking Dimera. They shouldn’t go together but they do.

Tad gets a call on one of these days at Chad’s, happy and light with playful laughter and antics as Chad tried to steal his twizzlers. He answers the phone with a laugh and a casual, “Yeah?”

It’s his landlord. The rent hasn’t come through. It’s gone and dried up. He calls his bank and there’s no money, no monthly payment from his father. He doesn’t have to guess why or how, or what. He was expecting this. Always expecting the worst but for the first ever he was hopeful. It’s all dashed. Gone at the bottom of a sea.

Chad’s arms wrap around him from behind as he whispers into his neck and ear, “What’s wrong?”

“Money ran out.” Tad says almost absent minded as he stares at his phone, still a little in shock, unknowing what to do. He can’t go home. He can’t. _He cannot_.

“We have an opening at the bar.” Chad says it like it’s easy, like it doesn’t matter. But to Tad, proud and angry, and on his own always. Coming from nothing. It feels like a slap to the face. He turns and pushes Chad away. “I don’t need your fucking charity.” He says angrily. Chad’s shock isn’t there, just grim acceptance.

“It’s a good job.” He says instead, not bothering to try and touch Tad again, not yet. He knows him better now. He knows him. “Think about it, okay? Why should I give it to some other college no good when I can give it to your college no good ass?” A hint of a teasing grin that has Tad smiling all too quickly. His anger dissipating as Chad comes closer, slow in his movements until he has his arms around him and his kissing him into acceptance. A puddle on the floor. Never has Tad been so willing to give to someone so whole heartily before. It scares him, more than the fairy thing even. Scares him and shivers him to the bone.

“Please? Think about it at least, alright? Sonny will be cool with it. Will too.”

_Will_. Will he ever be free of him? Truly? He turns and kisses Chad, bites into his lips like a starving animal and they go at it like starving animals too. At the end, bruised and sore in all the right places, Tad whispers to Chad, “Okay.” And Chad knows almost immediately what he’s saying, ‘okay’, to. Chad kisses the side of his head and smiles.

“Okay.” Chad says back. “Okay.”

…

The job is good and it pays good but after his first few weeks his gig turns out to be Sami Brady’s wedding to EJ Dimera, Chad’s brother. Chad doesn’t ask him if he wants to go to that party with him too because he’ll be working there. He seems excited, happy for EJ and it’s a surprise to Tad after the stories he’s heard. How happy he is. How easily he fell into that family, but at least he has one. He likes Chad best when he’s happy, not bitter and angry like how they first fell together all those months ago- year and some now.

He almost smiles, has it really been that long?

On the day of the wedding Chad dresses up and Tad help him with his tie. He smiles at him and Chad smiles back, kissing him unabashed and so, so happy, it almost hurts to stare at him too long. They go their separate ways, Tad to the bar and Chad to the wedding at the church, but there’s a moment of longing in his gaze, of wishing for him to come with Chad, but then it’s gone as he gets in his car and Tad gets in his trunk. He tries not to think about it. But it’s hard. He ends up thinking about it through the whole set up and all the way up to the reception when everyone comes in with big grins.

He finds how suddenly he’s wishing for all of this. For himself to be that happy, but then he shakes his head at the image of Chad being right up there with him enters his mind. That can’t happen. It can’t. And not just because it’s not legal.

“When I first met EJ…” Chad starts his speech and Tad comes out from behind the bar beside a few other guests to hear it. Can’t help himself, but he doesn’t want to get in the way, doesn’t want to put himself in the way of something that he’s not a part of. Never will be a part of. He goes near the door and he listens, and waits, and smiles… Heart full and light-

And a woman walks in, the flash of metal and years of reflexes from his father he sees where exactly the gun is pointed, right at Chad and EJ. He doesn’t care for EJ but Chad, _god_ , when did Chad become everything to him!? He grabs the gun, he steps in front, and he gets it away as a shot rings out.

**_Bang._ **

The gun flies across the room and he’s falling onto the floor. Back to the wood in a hard thud as he looks up to the ceiling, the white lines and groovy designs makes him almost smile. He feels the bullet piercing through his lung, out his back and it’s horrible. The pain excruciating as he feels a familiar wetness along his back, pouring onto the ground. It’s much more than it’s ever been, and he vaguely recalls wetting himself as a child. So similar and yet not at all. He almost smiles again, laughter on the tip of his lips as another more absurd idea enters his mind. His head.

Arms are around him and he’s got his head pillowed in someone’s lap. Gentle, fire filled hands along his cheeks as someone yells at him, “TAD! WAKE UP! FUCK. Stay with me, man. Fuck,” Voice cracking, “Stay with me, baby, please... Baby…?”

Tad smiles as he sees the face of an angel, or devil, or both. All he knows is that he’s his hell and his heaven, his damnation and his salvation. His fire and his rescue from it.

“I’m a hero.” He says. The most absurd idea of all.

Chad laughs, chuckles weakly. “Yeah,” He says, “Yeah, you are.”

And Tad drifts. Drifts. And drifts…

_A hero. HA._

…

He wakes to beeping, and voices. He wakes to Chad fucking Dimera crying. Greif filled voice answering EJ’s question of, “he’s the one, isn’t he? You’re jewel?”

“Yeah.” Is Chad’s pain filled reply, not because of him or who he is, he knows but doesn’t get or understand, but because of how he almost lost him. Could lose him. “He is. He’s my jewel.”

“He saved our lives.” EJ continues. “He’ll always be indebted to me, and to you.”

“He won’t see it like that.”

“What I can do?”

A deep breath, and an exhale. “All he wants is a family… Just like I did.”

“He is family.” EJ sounds so sure and certain, so accepting and without fear that Tad’s heart seizes, the heart monitor speeding up too much as he drifts away again…

…

“So… You two… I’m sorry, man, but when did this happen? And why didn’t he tell me?” Will’s voice, confused and bright. He feels Chad’s hand in his, fingers interlocking tightly and firmly. He’s not letting go. Not ever. And Tad can’t decide which is worse and which is better. He’s afraid but he can’t move. He’s stuck, but Chad’s hand burns in his, so he hangs on back and waits it out. Waits it out with him.

“About a year, more I think. Longer, I mean.” Chad answers.

“But…” A confused laugh from Will, unbelieving and a little hurt. Tad knows that pain, and he can’t help but feel both guilty and glad that Will got a taste of his own medicine, that he did that to him.

“I don’t know man, okay? He didn’t want anyone to know.” Chad explains, a little exasperated and defensive on Tad’s behalf. His heart squeezes nicely for that one. But then it falls just a little, or a lot, he can’t tell anymore as Chad adds, “You know how he is.”

“He’s had problems with us in the past.” Sonny’s voice, voice of reason. Voice that wouldn’t shut up so he punched him. His own feelings about everything overriding any calm sense of reason. Tad feels guilt for that too. He apologized. He thought they were passed that, but there’s still some lingering anger there. Still some unresolved somethings.

“He has problems with himself.” Chad says cryptically, and it’s so close to the truth that it hurts. A bitter streak of betrayal hits Tad, at him telling Will and Sonny but then Will asks, “What does that even mean?” Chad doesn’t respond. Instead Tad feels his gaze like dancing flames on the skin of his face, on him, and on everywhere on him. He feels him.

“Come on, Will, we should go get some coffee.” Sonny says. “Chad, do you want anything?”

“No, man, thanks, I just- Just need him to wake up.”

He does wake up. Eyes opening up to the brightness as they try to find Chad’s, and he does. Chad leans over and there’s a hand, palm spanning across his cheek as his chest twinges in pain. More than a twinge but Chad looks at him like he’s everything, like’s more than just brass, or more like brass and silver is all he ever wants to see.

Such relief is outpoured from him as he says, “Thank god. Took you long enough, Tad.”

“Sorry,” Tad almost smiles, “Was having a really good nap.”

Chad chuckles weakly, and Tad memorizes the flecks in his eyes. He wants this moment with him, between them to just last but he has to know. He has to ask. He’s afraid and sick, and he _needs_ to know.

“They know, don’t they?”

Chad looks guilty, but he doesn’t pull away, he just nods. “Yeah, uh… They do. Sort of my fault. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” Tad can taste it.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” Chad says instead, and that’s real, that’s true. That’s honest. “But I’m not sorry they know. They don’t care, T, they just want us to be happy.”

Tad doesn’t say anything. He can’t.

“Hey,” Chad tries, pulling him closer until his forehead rests against his. “It’s you and me, okay? You and me, baby. You and me.”

And if Tad closes his eyes and wills it, wishes it, maybe just maybe it can be true.

...

_You and me. And our silver and brass. Or whatever._

**You and me.**

Tad opens his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. <3


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